Best Abdomen Poems
POTD 2 July 2018
Humans are capable of ‘Changing their State’. At times, a stressful, negative fusillade can be encountered from an individual wishing to subvert a person for whatever reason.
Lady Gaga so aptly describes this in her video clip above - and she should know through experience.
Kindness is a sentiment no one can ultimately reject.
Hard to do you say? - It’s easy.
Firstly, refuse your alter ego permission to react immediately.
(Your alter ego is programmed to protect your from a ‘painful’ situation)
The brain is a Bio-computer and can easily be reset to ‘Default’ by breathing into your abdomen (not into your lungs), - hold and then exhale, each action performed slowly to the count of 6.
Accusatory fingers pointing ~ eyes glowing hate
Seeds of venom spewing forth slanderous lies
Jealousy in all its inglorious green eyed splendor
Wool clothed wolves with undetectable smiles
Any tick of the clock it creeps up upon you
Evil plays no favorite it’s any man’s game
Seeming to push you up that stairway of victory
Then perniciously denigrates ~ disavowing any blame
Damned if you do ~ Damned if you don’t
Kindness perceived as weakness gets cast out the door
Tendencies to vacillate creates chinks in your armour
Resolutely walk the tight rope ~ lest your knees hit the floor
Eyes wide shut to the Evil all around us
Detach from this Chaotic Web in which we dwell
Be the Peace that ceaselessly penetrates the darkness
YOUR prerogative is to choose either ~ Heaven or HellPOTD 2 July 2018
ASP OF GRIEF
She buries her head upon this asp of grief —
soft with reptilian fangs, hard with poison.
Her covetous husband lies upon the Nile’s reef.
She holds her abdomen in her arms - his son.
with lunar belly...
the shape of her husband’s seed
...a fateful eclipse
The pit with its bone-chilling cold, hisses with hatchlings,
dreaming of spoiled seeds and seas with a vortex,
coiling around ships. A queen’s lips burn red, yearning for her king.
An abandoned wreck will not lay eyes upon his baby’s sex.
insanity’s kiss...
eyes burn with crimson lipstick
...unrepentant flames
She plays with sticks and desire, enticing asps of despair —
gorges with vampiric teeth. She embraces their mock
and likewise teases, beckons and pleads for death so fair.
Like a breeze about her ankles snakes snip her royal purple frock.
entanglement frays...
dyed purple threads unravel
...rigor mortis strikes
His candle ensign in the dark, a resurrected hero of vanity.
The light flickers with feet in the sand, footprints at lover’s leap.
His profile in death’s shadow, his purple passion of insanity —
laughter litters this carnivorous cave where ashes of dust heap.
alluring ashes...
Salome’s serpentine dance
...Cleopatra’s veils
The sound of a knife being sharpened, his sword with venom drawn,
leaps upon his self-righteous chest, a single blade’s deep penetration.
No handsomer lover, thighs of steel, tanned and craven brawn.
He lost his rapturous beauty bright and fleeting, weeds of veneration.
bilious-amber
mixes with his crimson blade
— a suicide pact
4/28/2018
I quickened my pace into life,
Gazing at the sun as it burns through
and the moon as it glows.
Worried as some of my terror
resulted from my errors.
Walked through melancholy with
drops of tears.
Abdomen murmuring and wont stop
torturing, beckoning the worms to feed.
Dizziness overclouded, so the door gets
closer.
Feel my head spinning, but still.
Lips dried like the desert.
Body, pale like a dead bird.
Mischievous thoughts crawled my medulla.
Take by force whats not yours.
Cried for night fall, comes another day.
Hoped to be saved by the day each day
I fell asleep as I fight deceit.
No Bread. Why?
By Dane Smith-Johnsen
Big round dark eyes staring at forgetfulness.
Eating nothingness, feeling helplessness.
Scavenging the streets for morsels finding hopelessness.
Foraging to fill a swollen abdomen full of emptiness.
Holding death securely within mothers’ bleakness.
Too hungry to show love and too hungry to cry-
But not too hungry to die-
Why?
Mankind’s blindness and heaped up forgetfulness, sighs.
The king of hades came and rode
And split thousands many throat
From the body of men and women who float
On the blue rhyme-singing water in boat
And the massacre continued into the large city
Crushing all the dried lilies
And drawing blood from the body of innocent farm-boys who looked tacky
And from the royal kids from a blossoming family
And from all others that are not or more than wealthy
The king of hades came and rode through all living bodies
And made them in a blink of the eyes and a pump from the lungs a breathless sleeping body
Many a women were left with an open abdomen
And some mercy-untimed killings for the men
And some more ruthless savage for the salvagers in the den
For priests are a torn face and cracked skull
For town-criers; arrows were stuck into their guts
And for many anonymously unknown, they were greeted by cold-death on swords
And for animals, some had their belly torn
And some killed by spilling a drain of blood; from a stab of their own horn
And birds who had their skin burnt
And fishes who in black boiling oil were drowned
The beautiful horror scene filled with terror is more than the eyes can afford
And more than nature could afford
What more for, what more before
The king of hades came and killed thousands, and infinity, and many more
Such beauty and so full of life,
she's flitting to and fro,
from plant to plant to find best perch
and put herself on show.
Sprawling in the midday sun
she is a splendid sight.
Her slender abdomen dressed in
metallic blue so bright.
Her wings are thin fragile fabric,
fine lace she must protect.
Her huge domed eyes focussed and keen
search around to locate
the fittest males upon the scene.
There's one with flying skill.
He plays the game of hide and seek.
Now, she joins in the thrill.
They fly off to the undergrowth.
In heartwheel there they play.
Now all her eggs become fertile.
A batch of them she lay
and after some minutes of rest
she starts another game,
but this time with different male.
This lady has no shame.
Gourmet Spider
Please, please, please don’t eat me
I am so tiny
Not a meal at all
Eight spindly legs and no abdomen to speak of
So please, please, please don’t eat me
I have tapped and drummed on your web
To soothe your voraciousness
Now let me crawl stealthily to the back
Move aside your spinneret
And copulate
But please, oh please don’t eat me
I am not a meal you would call worthy
Of those ferocious mandibles
And the glinting cold gems of your myriad eyes
Please, please don’t eat me
Not this time any way
And if you like I will promise to be a ready meal
Just add water
And you will eat your fill
But not this time
Ok
Not this time
This time let me escape
The deed done
I impregnate
You
And as I scramble over the treads of sticky silk
The panic in my heart
Is a treacherous mistake
For she looks always for the perfection in her lovers
ESCAPE !!!!!!!!
AAAAAGGHHHHH !
What was that
Oh no……
You beautiful …………………………………… cold…………………..
………………………………voracious……………… Bit………………………..
There's a viscerally vial creature loosed,
Which is heinously hideous and vicious.
This barbarian monstrosity destroys people's vitality and flesh,
By raping and pillaging their lives,
Killing and ravaging entire families and villages,
Forever cursing all those it consumes.
I've taken up armament against this enemy,
Vowing an oath to eradicate this foe.
I wage continued war on this unholy vile behemoth,
Thrusting my dagger through its abdomen,
Ripping and slashing its bowels,
But it shrugs off the assault undeterred.
I shoot arrows through its heart,
Only to realize tis useless as no heart exists.
I take my sword and behead the beast,
But like Hydra, it restores its venomous crown.
I hack off its limbs chopping flesh and bone,
But it slithers demonically onward.
I gouge out its eyes blinding it from finding victims,
But it smells weakness, fear, and depression,
And tracks its quarry like a bloodhound.
I smash out its treacherous bloodthirsty teeth,
But it mauls its prey bludgeoning it mercilessly,
Slowly but surely till it's powerless.
I wrestle it and break it's back so it's paralyzed,
But its grotesque distorted mangled body trudges forward unhindered.
Nothing I do stops this devastating onslaught,
And I relinquish my battle and succumb unwillingly to this curse.
Destined to be enslaved to this ruthless foe forever.
Left helpless to struggle until I die,
Fighting with my own sins.
you feel. you touch. you hear. you see.
you believe it is real and nothing can persuade you otherwise. you then base your efforts on your belief. you pour your heart and soul into a little jar until it is overflowing with affection. you thought that you placed this jar on a shelf up high. but, contrary to your judgment, the jar was, in fact, still reachable. you do not realize this until you watch him reach for it. you then begin to feel uncertainty. once you realize what his intent is with your jar, this reaching begins to seem like an eternity. first, you fight for it. then, you recognize that there is no reversing. lastly, you surrender your jar. you watch it leave his hand with rapid force. your little jar plunges to the ground, shattering into a million pieces. there, on the floor, lies what was left of your heart. all passion, devotion, and respect- demolished. your stomach begins to turn. you feel queasy. unfortunately, there is no cure. you are now in a dangerous state of mind. your consideration for unhealthy things has reached its utmost. you lie in bed, one hand on your abdomen, and one hand on your heart, paralyzed.
“sweet dreams,” he tells you.
Form:
Disgusting could be a weaker word to express the scene,
Nauseating and stomach-churning the locus has been;
Sliding, slithering, groveling, crouching, crawling, creeping,
Filling, feeling, and falling they were seeping and sleeping...!
Crab, lynx, silk, orb, ogre... varieties were within,
Specimen of many species, yet, resembled akin;
Weaving webs and entwining each other they pulled, and pushed,
Weighing and wheeling their bodies across they looked ambushed...!
Shooting silk out of their abdomen, they preyed on insects,
Powerful they all seemed as though with venomous effects;
The patience and persistence they practice can be adored,
Midst their ugliness their role in the world can't be ignored...!!!
03 June 2023
Bag of Spiders Poetry Contest
Bag of Spiders Poetry Contest
i hear chirping beaks,
my love, as you deeply sleep
with your mouth ajar
butterflies in jar -
my abdomen aches with thoughts
of sudden silence
The chitinous mechanics
of head, thorax, and abdomen,
clicking exoskeletons,
the chirring of dry whispers.
We admire the purposeful
simplicity of the heedless.
Houses crumble as evidence.
Trees rot and give witness.
Caves crawl
with their evidential passing -
they command the locomotion and menu,
of the inevitable.
We who must be consumed,
know that as prey we are not too large,
and so, we lumber on as elephants will,
on their way
to long prepared graveyards.
Me: I’m sorry, I didn’t catch you name
Him:Yellow, but my friends call me Yell
Me: Say again? I’m somewhat hearing impaired
Him: Yellow!! But my friends call me Yell!!
Me: There’s certainly no need to YELL at me sir
Him: Son of a…I said Yellow!! But my friends ca...
Me: Ahh, I see, so you’re a yellow fellow then?
Him: Okay whatever, yeah, I’m a yellow fellow
Me: Well, there’s nothing at all to be afraid of sir
Him: You givin’ me a BAD case of the red-ass here!
Me: A red Ass? Might I suggest that you dye it y...
Him:You and me are fixin’ to visit the hospital bud!
Me: Well, I’m certainly no doctor but it could be jaundice
Him:You’re gonna NEED a doctor, you yellow bellied…
Me: Sir, I'm certain that my abdomen is flesh toned, see?
Him: Oh lordy me! Pull your FREEKIN’ shirt back d....
Me: By the way, do you remember that song Mellow Yel…
Him: (Slam-Bam-Ooof!!)---Pretty sure its Donovan, right?
Me: No hir, my name ih NOH Donovan, ih’s Him Ryerson
Him: Gonna make me do this AGAIN? (more slam-bam-ooof)
Me: Excuse me hir, it heems I’ve fallen and cannoh geh up
Him: Call Life Alert and tell them you need a dentist...
* Edited and extended version of a previous post
Dedicated to the VERY talented poet Monterey Sirak whose contest this poem placed in...Thanks Monterey!
She waits,
eight black spindles joined at one end by a pivot, a compass.
Each pinpoint balanced at the intersections
of self-drawn polygons.
Legs jointed like the fingers of a skeleton,
deft, dexterous as a harpist.
Body in two sections with ample abdomen,
the African who carries the water jug on her head.
Or an Indian, the untouchable with her caste mark,
the microscopic grains dropping through the hourglass
like drops of blood.
Blind, she has the surrogate sense of a seismograph.
She would feel a disturbance in the web
were it only a thought.
Never mind she lives in a dark corner
as devoid of light as she is of personality,
she needs neither.
She does not look as the wrapped body of her cannibalized mate
as at a gilt-framed photograph of the dearly departed.
The egg sac is not a silk-lined bassinet,
the hanging ornament
to all her future hopes and dreams.
She is absent of frontal lobes,
moralizing modifiers,
second thoughts.
An instrument of logic,
mate=food
sac=young,
syllogisms minus all prepositions,
additional excess cargo to be jettisoned
as the dried shells of devoured prey.
No welcome mats on the front step,
no settees in the parlor,
no cunning seductress with scarlet claws.
Only a modem waiting in the spaceless black.
Eyelids heavy with memories
Cover lights and shadows of a hospital in ruins.
A baby with grown-up fingers
Reads the past in Braille
Barely touching the meaning of broken cobblestone streets of her past.
Her fingertips retract like eyes of snails back into the present
Where handsome men - immoral in their animalism -
try to understand LOVE for the very first time.
Great White sharks kill tri-athletes and place them in immortality
as writers reach the end of the journey frustrated by their lack of gills ...
The torrid yellow burden rolls down incinerated crystals between her breasts
She senses people as zigzags with burglarized drawers
rhythmically roaming up and down the Riviera...
The ocean breeze murmurs: “ Michelle, my belle...”, “ I love, I love you, I looove you...”
Invading her nostrils with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee
and the smell of barbeque that, once she could digest.
The sun drops gold coins into the turquoise as they ricochet into her degenerating eyes.
I see myself in her from the above as unscrupulous tides rip open our sandy abdomen
Violently sucking my body's sand sculpture back to the undertow.
It's almost dusk and seagulls fly through me to a secret shelter I wish I had...
I'm scared to fall asleep as I might wake up without wings
while numbness's taking over my bleeding shoulder blades...
"The body of a peddler with broken clocks on sale
was found tonight
on the landing pad of a hospital in ruins"
for Deb's contest "Real, UNreal or SURreal "